Launch Night

The art is on the floor

so technically my feet

are art. Watch your — says the

curator, too late. I’m

rearranging atoms,

I’m making something move

here, can’t you see? More verve,

more discombobulation

– more lifelike, don’t you think?

The curator doesn’t

think. I disentangle.

She announces a round

of applause for Tim, who’s

gone home but who put out

the chairs and set up the

audio though the mic

boomed then bust and the chairs’

configuration has

tricked me into paddling

in the artist’s orna-

mental pond. THANKS TIM! I

holler. The others clap

neatly. I clap like I

mean it, above my head.